Mark's Nightmare
by GenuineAmy
Summary: Mark has one really bad night.


**Disclaimer:** I own not a notion. I rent. Though RENT may be starting to own me.

**This is just a silly little oneshot that I put together after my classes this morning. I figure it to be my Halloween story. Hope you enjoy. I know I laughed.**

"There are too many people in this loft." Mark Cohen's voice broke through the comfortable afternoon silence. Collins looked up from his crossword, brow furrowed.

"What do you mean? It's only us."

"Yeah, but it went from being four of us, to five of us, to two of us, to seven of us. That's three more people than the original group."

"Good job Marky. You paid attention in math class." Roger's smirk lasted all of five seconds before a couch cushion made contact with his face.

"Fuck off Roger. What I mean is it's kind of crowded. I mean, I like being around you guys, and hanging out, but it's nice to not see each other every day too. It makes the times when we do see each other more memorable."

"So we're not memorable unless we leave? That's fucked up Mark." Maureen picked her head up off of Joanne's lap and glared at him.

"No, I mean you're memorable, but not _as_ memorable."

"Fuck you." Maureen turned her back on Mark and looked to the other occupants, "If Mark doesn't like seeing our faces all the time, maybe he should be the one to leave."

"That's pretty logical. Sorry Mark," Joanne smiled guiltily.

"Mo does have a point. Something she usually can never find." Roger turned his head at the exact moment Maureen let the aforementioned couch cushion fly.

"Hey! I've been living here just as long as you Roger. And might I add, I have a job to pay the rent." Mark huffed.

"Oh, now you're going to hang _that_ over my head!" Roger gently pushed Mimi off his lap and stood face-to-face with Mark.

"I'm not hanging anything over your head! I'm just saying I'm a…_the_ major contributor to the reason why we haven't been evicted yet!"

"Okay, okay, okay. Everyone settle your ass down! There is no reason why this needs to become overly dramatic. Mark, you do a good job paying the rent. Roger, you do a good job…living here and doing whatever the hell it is you do. No one is going anywhere." Collins stood between Mark and Roger with his hands out to the side.

"Thank you Collins." Mark breathed a sigh of relief. It was good to know that someone was on his side.

"Yet anyway. We can settle this with good, old-fashioned democracy. All for Mark leaving, say Aye."

"Aye!"

"Aye!"

"Aye!"

"Aye! Sorry sweetie." Angel quickly bowed her head.

"Fuckin Aye!" Maureen grinned wickedly.

"Aye, sorry man. Even if I hadn't voted, you still would have lost." Collins shot an apologetic look at Mark, who stood with his jaw dropped and a mixture of disbelief and horror on his face. Before he knew it, everyone was helping to move his belongings out into the stairwell. Mark just stood in place, dumbfounded. There went his film equipment, his clothes, even all of his books. The next thing he knew he was staring at the closed loft door, looking at it from the outside. Laughter and chatter came from inside and Mark felt tears brim his eyes. His friends had shut him out. Suddenly that deep sadness became anger which quickly turned into fury. Something appeared in Mark's hand; a grenade. How had he gotten a grenade?

"Kick me out. Fuck them." As he tossed the grenade through the loft door, he heard Roger shouting his name.

"Mark…Mark…Mark, move your ass. Let's go."

Opening his eyes slowly, Mark looked into a hideous visage; one covered in blood and scars. Bits of the face were almost completely gone. Skull bone was seen in between flaps of skin. Mark's eyes widened in terror and he did what anyone would do in that sort of circumstance.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Crawling as far away from the creature as he could, Mark took in the rest of the monster's body. It was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and resembled the build of Roger.

"Oh my God! Roger, what have I done? I didn't mean to throw the grenade! I don't even know how I got it! Oh, God!"

"What in the fuck are you talking about?" Roger ripped the rubber mask off his face and stared, puzzled at his roommate.

"What…what the?...I didn't kill you?"

"No…but if you are entertaining that idea, would you be kind enough to let me know when so I can get the hell out of here?"

"I…it was just…God, what a nightmare." Mark went into a lengthy and detailed account of his dream. After he had finished, he looked into Roger's green eyes, "That makes me such a terrible friend, doesn't it? I mean what kind of sane person dreams about killing the people that mean the most to them?"

"Shit, man. I've had those dreams before. I dreamt once that I shoved an umbrella down Collins' throat, and then opened it. I Mary Poppin-ed him. I pushed you off the roof once too. It happens. I know you're not psycho and going to kill me in my sleep." Roger paused, "Are you?"

"No! God, no Rog!"

"Chill out Mark. I was just messing with you. Now, get up! It's Halloween and we've got general mischief and mayhem to deliver to the residents of Alphabet City. Well, at least that's what Collins said. I think it's mostly going to be getting drunk and smoking _a lot_ of weed."

"Sounds like a good day to me."

"Yeah, plus it'll be good to get his mind off of Angel. One year."

"It can't believe it went by so fast. We'll make him remember the good times." Roger left and as Mark got out of bed and started to get dressed, he found himself chuckling at his dream. Even if everyone did live in the loft, Mark would be fine with it. They weren't just his friends, they were his family.


End file.
